Archive of Our Own

IT WAS supposed to be just another night shift at the restaurant for him. It was supposed to be just another winter day that made his fingertips and ears stiff and pink. It was supposed to be just another rainy day, another evening he planned to spend drinking with Kuroo. It was supposed to be all of these things, but it wasn’t.

Bokuto Koutarou has never told anyone this, but he liked the rain. He liked the converging of the grey clouds right before the first drop, and he liked the musty smell. He liked the sound of the rain hitting his windows and the ground underneath. There was a gloomy and melancholy connotation with rain, but Bokuto has never seen it like that. Because as a child, whenever it rained he would rush outside and splash in the puddles and laugh. And then his mother would go to pull him back inside because he’d gotten his clothes muddy.

It also rained on the day he met his best friend.

“—Koutarou...Koutarou!” a familiar voice said. Bokuto snapped back to reality; to spiky black hair and garish pale pink walls. He looked at his childhood friend, who flicked his forehead back. “What were you thinking about?” Kuroo Tetsurou asked.

“Nothing important...” he answered, because he really didn’t think that it was.

Kuroo smiled his usual smug grin, and said, “What is it? Tell me. If it’s got you thinking, then I think it’s important.”

“Remember how we met? Your house got flooded by the rain and your family came over to our house? You must have thought I was a weird kid with golden eyes.”

“You are.” Kuroo went back to washing dishes.

Bokuto began to smell something a lot like rotten fish and eggs. He pinched his nose. “Dude, is that you?!” he accused Kuroo.

The victim stopped as the smell came to him as well. “No way! Are you sure that’s not you?”

As Bokuto figured out that it must be the trash, he sighed and started to take it outside. Outside, he almost wanted to stay there, to sit down in that alleyway and listen to the rain. But somehow, there was someone already doing that. He was sitting next to the dumpster, with his head in between his legs. His white shirt was soaked, and his pants were stained with mud. He had pale arms and unruly dark hair, and on his wrist was a watch. At this moment, Bokuto had two voices speaking to him in his head. One said to speak to this person, while the other said to go back inside and forget this ever happened.

But the former voice was a lot stronger. He said, “Hey.” Since there was no response, he continued, “Are you okay?”

Without looking up, the person said, “I’m fine.”

“Are you really?”

Now, he looked up. Although he was frowning, Bokuto noticed that he was handsome. Even in the dark alley, he could tell. He could see his narrowed dark blue eyes, the sharpness of his eyebrows, and his elf-like ears. He wondered what this person looked like underneath the sun. “What do you want?” he asked.

“What? I don’t really...what about you? I mean, you’re in the back alley of a restaurant, right next to the dumpster. And you say you’re fine?”

He didn’t reply, and instead stared at Bokuto’s eyes. “Are those color contacts?”

“Nope.”

“So your eyes are golden?”

“Yeah.” As soon as it fell silent, Bokuto heard a rumbling sound coming from the person’s stomach. “You’re hungry, huh? Do you want to come inside? My shift isn’t over yet.”

As if he was waiting to hear those words all night, the man stood up immediately. Bokuto smiled and they went back inside. Kuroo, as soon as he saw the unfamiliar person, said, “Koutarou, I leave you alone for one minute...”

“If there was a cat outside, I know you would have done the same thing,” Bokuto snapped.

Kuroo didn’t say anything back, probably because it was the truth. He’s had an affinity for cats ever since birth; he had a golden-black cat at home that he brought in from the streets.

“Um,” the stranger said, “did you just compare me to a cat?”

Bokuto smiled. He called into the kitchen, “Hey, hey! Got any of the spaghetti left?”

With Kuroo watching from the sidelines, he and the stranger sat down to talk, although nothing was said until a few minutes later. “So, uh, what’s your name? I’m Bokuto...”

The stranger looked down at the table. “My name? Why does that matter? We’re not going to see each other again after this.”

He replied, “Do you really think so? I think, since this is for free, you owe me.”

The stranger sighed. “It’s Akaashi. Akaashi Keiji.”

Suddenly, his eyes sparkled and he drew closer to Akaashi, throwing the latter off guard. “That’s a cool name!”

“How?”

“I don’t know.”

Akaashi frowned. “You make no sense.”

“I make sense!”

“Okay.”

Kuroo brought over a plate of spaghetti and meatballs with sautéed cabbage on the side. “Eat up,” he said.

In no time at all, Akaashi devoured the food in front of him; it hardly looked like he was chewing. Only a few times did he stop to breathe. Bokuto was oddly mesmerized by how this person looked while eating. He had the face of a child receiving gifts on Christmas; a face as bright as the sun. Bokuto wondered what made him have dejected expression earlier, since he had the ability to look this childish.

Kuroo asked the question that seemed to be on his mind, “Why were you outside in the alley, anyway?”

Akaashi stopped and chugged a glass of water. He answered, “I was hungry, but I left my wallet at work.”

Bokuto said, “Wait, you looked so sad because you were hungry? What about your lunch?”

“It was an onigiri.”

“How are you even alive?!”

“Well, the food was great. Thanks. I’ll pay you back another time.” Akaashi got up and started to leave, but before he did he looked Bokuto’s way. “See you later, Bokuto-san.”

“Bokuto-san...”

He realized that he really liked the way that sounded.

“Kuroo!” he said, back in the kitchen, “Call me ‘Bokuto-san’.”

“No way,” his best friend replied almost instantly.

“I am older.”

“Yeah, by like, two months. And even if you’re older, I think I’m more mature.”

Bokuto couldn’t argue with that. After a while, though, he finally did get Kuroo to say it, but it didn’t sound—feel—the same to his ears. So maybe it was the way he said it? Or Akaashi himself? What was it?

What was making him want to see that person again?

THE NEXT DAY, during the same late shift, Kuroo realized how antsy Bokuto was, and almost wanted to shoot down whatever hopes or expectations he had about Akaashi. “He never said when he was going to come back,” he said.

“But that could be today,” he replied.

“Why are you so excited to see this guy? I don’t think he gave off the best impression.”

“Back me up here, Kuroo!”

“In all of your failed romances, have I ever backed you up?”

Bokuto, irritated, said, “Do you want to fight or what?”

“I’m just being honest.”

“Since when?”

“I’m always honest.”

Their banter was cut short when Akaashi did in fact arrive. He wore a black blazer with a white shirt underneath, dark jeans that were cuffed at the bottom, and wooden sandals. His appearance looked as if it did a one-eighty from yesterday. Of course, Bokuto was fond of the change. The sharp throbbing in his chest was proof enough.

“Hey, hey, hey!” he exclaimed, trying to act casual. “If it isn’t Akaashi!”

“Hi. I hope you’re not too surprised by my appearance,” he said.

“O-of course not.”

“Anyway, how much was the meal yesterday?” Kuroo interjected and told him the price, while he took out what could be considered a lot of money and said, “Keep the change.”

Bokuto stopped him. “W-wait, I can’t—I don’t want your money. I said it was free, so it’s free.”

“But you said that I owe you?”

“Yeah but, I meant like, maybe we could hang out or something.”

Akaashi stared at Bokuto nonchalantly for a while before replying. “I work at a bar in the city. If you really insist, then come by after your shift. I’ll give you two free drinks.” He took a pen from the counter and wrote the name and address on Bokuto’s palm. “Here. See you soon.”

And Akaashi was gone almost as soon as he arrived.

“That guy didn’t smile once, did he?” Kuroo said.

“No, he didn’t.” But Bokuto knew it existed, so he couldn’t wait to see what it was like.

AS SOON AS they saw the bar, they figured out why Akaashi seemed to have good money. It was an extremely successful place. They got seated at the counter and waved to Akaashi on the farther end. He came rushing over. “So what do you guys want?” he asked.

After he got them their drinks he went back to work. “I just don’t know what I should say to him...” Bokuto thought aloud.

Kuroo said, “Just, like, ask him a bunch of questions. You’re good at that, right? Being nosy.”

“Are you really my friend?” Bokuto whimpered, then chugged down a glass of chuuhai. “If I die before you, I’m going to haunt your ass.”

“Okay, look. I’ll ask him all the stuff you can’t. You can just sit there and listen.”

“Kuroo...”

“I know, I’m an awesome friend. But only this one time. The rest is up to you.”

IN THAT one night, he learned quite a few things about Akaashi that he would have never known because of his uncharacteristic shyness. It was a shyness that only came as he wanted to ask Akaashi a question. Eventually, he learned that Akaashi Keiji was an only child, and that his favorite food had a pretty complicated name. He liked watching the Olympics just for taekwondo and volleyball, and he hated crowded places other than the bar in which he worked. It was his other favorite place aside from the library near his house. He liked peace and quiet, something that Bokuto was normally devoid of. On Saturday nights he worked late and on Sunday mornings he went for jogs at the park near his house.

“Kuroo. I owe you my life, man,” said Bokuto after the relay of information.

His dark-haired companion quickly replied, “No, thanks. I don’t want you to haunt me.”

THAT SUNDAY, Bokuto went. He tried to convince himself that he wasn’t going for him, to see him, and that if anything miraculous happened it would just be a coincidence. The shy and the dry air was perfect for jogging; it was in between cool and warm. He’d even brought out his exercise clothes that he hadn’t used in at least a few years. The park was fairly empty; it was ten in the morning, after all. However he did see a family on the lawn, and an employee tending to the flowers. He sat on a bench across from the pond and sighed. He looked to the lurid blue sky, as its brightness pained his eyes. It was so different from a few days ago, when it had rained.

The image of the cloudless sky was burned to his eyes, so much so that he didn’t even notice the familiar voice in front of him. “Bokuto-san. Bokuto-san.”

Startled, he saw the new image in front of him: Akaashi and his slate-colored eyes and his painted look of indifference. He wore a navy blue tracksuit and black sneakers. He had an earbud in one ear; the other ear was obviously to hear Bokuto’s answer to his question, “Are you stalking me? If I remember correctly, you do not live near here.”

Bokuto didn’t know what it was—something, maybe the sound of his voice— that made him burn to his ears. He answered coolly, “Well, I just felt like going for a jog at a park.” He really wanted to start jogging so that the beating of his heart would be from the exercise, not the person beside him.

“Then, do you think you can keep up with me?” he asked.

Was that a challenge or an invitation? Bokuto wasn’t sure. But a smile ran along his face anyway. “Sure. I won’t be sorry if I pass you.”

So they started jogging along the walkway of the park. The wind whistled past their ears and into their hair. Bokuto liked this. He didn’t even care that Akaashi was a great proximity ahead of him.

However, Akaashi started to slow down, and Bokuto saw that there was a young girl with dark hair sitting on a bench and crying. He remembered her from earlier when he saw a family sitting on the grass. He walked up to her, knelt down and smiled. “Hey. Where are your parents?”

The girl shook her head. “I saw a bird and ran to it.”

“You know that’s only going to make your parents worry, right? And what if someone took you?”

She nodded. Akaashi, on the side, stared. If Kuroo were there, Bokuto was sure he would make fun of him and say something like, “How can a child lecture a child?” But Akaashi was not Kuroo.

“They’re definitely looking for you right now. So is it okay if we wait with you until they come?” he asked the girl. Again, she nodded.

So the two sat with the young girl in between them. Akaashi was still staring at Bokuto. “Usually people ignore it,” he said. He was referring to lost children.

“Kuroo would say that I’m not usual. Besides, I like kids.”

“Because you are one?” Akaashi deadpanned.

Bokuto stood up. “At heart! At heart.” He sat back down.

Just then, the girl’s parents arrived. The girl cried a lot, and the mother thanked the two of them a lot. She had long dark hair, misty blue eyes and a mole underneath her lips. She even had Bokuto give her his number so that she could repay him sometime in the future. Her name was Kiyoko.

AFTER THEIR JOG, they went to Akaashi’s house to eat. This was where relentless persistence came to be useful. However, Akaashi limited Bokuto in where he could stand and sit and exist, basically. He seemed on edge as soon as Bokuto had asked him if he could go to his apartment, and then he said, “No one has been to my place in three years.”

So the only area where he allowed Bokuto to sit was on the floor beside the table. After a while, he grew impatient. “What are you making?”

His reply from the kitchen was soft. “Miso soup.”

“And?”

“Rice.”

“And?”

“Rapeseed.” That is the food that was Akaashi’s favorite. He added, “That’s it.”

“Are you vegetarian or something?”

“No. Meat is for dinner.”

“Then, do you need any help?”

“No.”

For the first time in his life, Bokuto was happy even when it seemed like he wasn’t wanted. He wasn’t going to give up so easily. This was just the beginning.

As the food was done and they started eating, he asked, “Do you have any chuuhai?”

“No. I have sake. Do you want some?”

“Yeah.”

After Akaashi came back with two glasses of sake, he said, “So what do you want, Bokuto-san?”

“What do you mean? You already got the sake.”

“I mean by hanging out with me. I don’t understand your motives. It can’t be sympathy, because I make more money than you.”

Bokuto mulled over this with the rapeseed still in his mouth. He tried to come up with an answer without giving himself completely away. “My father once told me that the best friendships come from the worst situations.”

Akaashi squinted. “Did he really say that?”

“No. But still, you get my point! I can’t have only Kuroo by my death bed!”

He made a sound that was in between a heavy sigh and a laugh. “Fine. If you really want it, I’ll stand by your death bed, Bokuto-san. Although I’d prefer it if you didn’t go before me.”

Bokuto didn’t feel happy or light by that statement. Instead he felt heavy.

AFTER THAT, they watched reruns of a volleyball anime and drifted to sleep. When Akaashi found that it was three in the afternoon, he had just taken a long nap, and that he actually let someone else sleep next to him, he wanted to dig up a hole from underneath the floorboards and jump inside. He shoved Bokuto, who fell on the floor and woke up. The silver owl’s hair was a mess. “What happened? Did you push me? What time is it?”

Akaashi answered his questions in parts. “We fell asleep. I didn’t push you that hard, and right now it’s three-thirty.”

Bokuto smiled. “Ah. That was a good nap.”

“How are you so carefree? You just slept in a stranger’s home.”

“Stranger? Strangers don’t eat breakfast together,” he said, and Akaashi’s eyes widened.

“Never mind,” he said, “You should go home.”

“I GOT IT,” Kuroo started, “Here’s what you should do.”

“I’m listening.”

“Cook for him.”

“What?” Bokuto had always been a good cook, but his insatiable hunger made him unable to cook for people other than himself.

“I know, you’re greedy. But if you want to get closer to someone, food is the way to go.”

He agreed. So he spent the next week thinking of dishes to make. Ultimately, he came up with onigiri. Aside from rapeseed, it was the food that reminded him of him and their rainy day meeting. He tried out different fillings and hoped for the best.

When he arrived on Saturday evening, he could tell Akaashi was surprised. “What are you even doing here?” he asked. His voice sounded somewhat drowsy, and his hair was tousled.

Bokuto did not seem to care, or notice, that his spontaneous arrival may have interrupted Akaashi’s sleep. He smiled. “I made food. You hungry?”

“No. Not really.” Just then, a rumbling that sounded like an earthquake came from his stomach.

“Let’s eat, then. You’ve worked hard today.”

“How could you possibly know that?”

“Why else would you be so hungry?”

“Do you even know what time it is? Don’t you have work tomorrow?”

“Not until the evening.” Bokuto let himself inside, even though Akaashi was still trying to find a way to make him leave. “Don’t be so stubborn all the time, Akaashi. It’s not good for your heart.”

“Um, Bokuto-san. I didn’t say this last time, but I don’t have any indoor slippers for you. No one ever comes here, after all.”

“Then you should buy me a pair.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m going to be coming here every Saturday night with onigiri.”

“Every week? Onigiri? If you’re making me go through all this and depriving me of sleep, they better be good.”

Bokuto gave him an innocent thumbs-up. “Of course they are.”

Akaashi didn’t say this, nor would he ever, but he was in love with Bokuto’s onigiri. He just didn’t have to say it, because it was written all over his face. He ate and ate and forgot to chew.

“I’m glad you like them.”

He frowned, frustrated that Bokuto figured him out already (unaware of his own expressions). “Do you cook?”

“I work in a restaurant, remember?”

“Oh, right.” Having finished, he gulped down a glass of water. “Still, I bet it was hard, preventing yourself from eating it.”

Bokuto frowned, hurt that Akaashi already knew. “Akaashi, why do you think so little of me?” he whined.

“I barely know you. I only know a little because you’re so obvious.”

“I like cats,” he said immediately.

“What?”

“And I like being around the guy named Akaashi Keiji. Though he’s a little mean.”

“...Why do you like being around him?”

“Because he’s interesting.”

Of course, Bokuto himself wouldn’t realize this, but Akaashi did. Akaashi realized that his eyelashes were actually long, and that his half-lidded golden eyes had fragments of brown in them, and that his Spiderman T-shirt was a hell of a lot more endearing than his own white, collared button-down. But most importantly, he realized that all of these things made up Bokuto Koutarou and that he was not going anywhere.

“By the way, Bokuto-san, the spicy tuna one had too much mayo.”

“What? Okay...wait, Akaashi, read the mood!”

“I did read the mood. That’s why I said it.”

As Akaashi saw him out, Bokuto held up his pinky finger. “Next Saturday, and the Saturday after that. I promise.” Akaashi found no words to say because he didn’t understand why it had to be a promise, so he simply locked their pinkies.

At that moment, something came over Bokuto. It was something dangerous, something foreign. It was a sudden rush of emotion, a desire, an urge. He saw the person in front of him and couldn’t help but look into his eyes. He leaned forward and gently stroked his cheek. He was close—too close. He almost went for it; he almost ruined what he hadn’t had yet. But he'd seen Akaashi’s face. The slight redness of his face, the wideness of his eyes and his agape mouth.

When Bokuto drew himself back, Akaashi lowered his head. “So that’s...what you wanted,” he said. He then slammed the door.

Still, Bokuto stood there. He stood facing the door, the thin, but very present wall between them.

Akaashi had been doing the same.

BOKUTO KNEW he had messed up. He knew he felt something for Akaashi ever since he found him in the alleyway, but he didn’t realize he had it this bad. To him, that moment felt so natural. It felt natural, being with Akaashi.

But now he had to find a way to make things right. Akaashi had been ignoring his calls and texts, so his only other option was the bar.

“Why do I have to come with you? You screwed this up yourself.” Kuroo looked at his friend in disappointment and disbelief.

“I know, but I need you for moral support!”

“But wait, won’t he just ignore you if you try to get his attention so blatantly?”

“Oh my God, you’re right. What should I do?”

Kuroo mulled over it. Eventually, he said, “You can sneak through the back and throw rocks at the window.”

Bokuto’s initial reaction was confused, but he slowly came to terms with the idea. “Okay. But how do you even think of these things?”

Kuroo pointed to his head and tapped his skull. He answered coolly, “It’s all up here, baby.” The truth was that he saw it in a movie.

So Bokuto stealthily went out back. He saw a window, and he saw Akaashi wiping down wet glasses. He picked up some pebbles and threw them at the window. Akaashi turned his head to look, saw the perpetrator, and turned away. Essentially, Kuroo’s idea was still useless. But it was Bokuto’s persistence that helped him succeed. He continued to throw rocks at the window until Akaashi approached him. And when he did, Bokuto said, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Akaashi's dark blue eyes were lowered in suspicion.

"You know what."

"...So, are you gay?"

"Yeah."

There was a moment of silence, a repose. Finally, Akaashi said, "It's okay, Bokuto-san."

"You forgive me?"

Slowly, a small smile formed on his face. "There's nothing to forgive."

Back in the bar, Bokuto gleefully watched Akaashi make drinks and serve people. He also listened to their problems. "You really like him, don't you? It's all over your face. It's kind of gross," Kuroo remarked.

"This is me caring."

When, just for a second, Akaashi looked his way, their eyes locked and a rush was sent through his body. Who knew just watching someone could make him so happy?

Afterwards, Bokuto followed Akaashi home. While they walked, Bokuto noticed that Akaashi had been doing something with his fingers for a while. "What are you doing?" He asked.

"What? What do you mean?"

"Your fingers."

"Oh." He looked down. "It's a habit."

"If it's habits, you tend to talk really fast sometimes. And you always ruin my moments."

Laughter reached Akaashi's eyes. "That's because you always do silly things. Like that greeting?"

"You mean 'hey hey hey'? Wow. I didn't know you felt this way."

"Tell me more," Bokuto said, with bright eyes.

"You want to hear more of the things about you that bother me?"

"Never mind..."

Then, Akaashi laughed.

Bokuto said, "Why are you so different from when we first met?"

"I don't know. I was always this way. You just haven't seen it."

"...Who has?"

"Are you talking about my past relationships?"

"I guess."

"Then, just my parents, really. But they're gone, so..." It fell silent. He continued, "It was a long time ago."

"Do you miss them?"

"Yeah,” he said. His eyes were heavier than his words. "I do."

AFTER THAT, they became fast friends. Of course, Bokuto the entire time was thinking of ways to get Akaashi to realize his feelings (if he hadn’t already), but he still valued what they had already. On Saturdays when he brought food he also brought the baggage of his life along with him. Over the beers Akaashi kept at home, Bokuto rambled on about how work kicked him in the ass sometimes, and how Kuroo was still very annoying.

“He’s such a know-it-all,” he wailed. “And my boss always takes his side.”

The situation inclined Akaashi to say, “Well, I’m on your side.”

Bokuto leaned over and he nestled his head into Akaashi’s lap. “I’m glad. I’m glad you’re on my side.”

Oddly enough, he didn’t regret saying those words.

WHEN THE WEATHER got warmer, Bokuto made it his duty to go on dates with Akaashi. It was only himself, really, who called them dates. Akaashi referred to them as outings. On one of these outings, they went to a restaurant with pork cutlets and ramen. Akaashi, to Bokuto's surprise, ordered a chuuhai.

"It's a habit," he said, "since I work at a bar."

"That makes sense."

This wasn't said by Bokuto. In fact, it was spoken by a man sitting behind him. As the man turned around, Bokuto noticed Akaashi's eyes growing wider and his face turning paler. The man was straight-laced and bald-headed, and had narrowed eyes that watched the world around them.

He continued, "Hey, Keiji."

Bokuto was irked by the tone of the man's voice as he used Akaashi's first name. "Hey," Akaashi replied, "What are you doing here?"

"Even I can have fun sometimes."

"So is talking to me right now a part of that?"

"Maybe. Don't you miss me?"

"Not particularly."

"Ouch." He turned to Bokuto. "Does he do this to you, too? It hurts, doesn't it?"

Bokuto answered him quickly, out of irritation. "Not really."

"Oh? Good for you then. Or should I say, 'be careful'?" After that, the man got up, threw out his scraps, and left with one last glance at Akaashi.

Bokuto turned to Akaashi, his eyes searching him for answers. "Who was he?"

Akaashi hesitated, since he knew any answer that he gave would make Bokuto upset. And he couldn't live with himself if he were to lie to him. "My ex."

Slowly, the horror reached Bokuto's face. "Wait, you, but you said—you weren't—"

"I never said that I wasn't gay. I just never said that I was. Why do you think I let you off the hook so easily?"

Bokuto simply thought that Akaashi was forgiving and open-minded. Having already had enough surprises for one day, Bokuto sighed. "So, what happened between you and him?"

Akaashi had been fiddling with his fingers ever since that man spike to him, but now he stopped. "I used to work in an office. He was my boss. It was one-sided."

"But then how come he was being such a dick to you?"

"My co-workers found out about me, and so did he, and he rejected me almost immediately. That was in front of the others. Outside of work, we did this and that..." He trailed off, not knowing how to continue.

"Akaashi. Continue." Bokuto's heart was afire with anger.

Akaashi noticed this, so he proceeded with caution. "But someone from work saw us, and he blamed me. That's how it ended. I had to quit, too. I couldn't stay there. On the day you found me, I saw him again. It didn't go too well, so I ended up drunk and lost."

"So that's what happened?"

Akaashi waited a moment, looking at Bokuto, to decipher what exactly his reaction was.

"Are you mad?"

"If I said yes?"

Akaashi replied, "I wouldn't want you to be mad."

THEIR NEXT outing was at a beach. It was the time of the year that wasn't too hot, but good enough to watch the waves of the sea. Bokuto had hardly slept the night before (out of nervousness and excitement), so he had Kuroo make him a bucket of coffee that morning.

When they showed up at Akaashi's apartment, he looked like he needed twice as much coffee as Bokuto in order to at least function normally.

"Did you even sleep?" Bokuto asked him.

"I don't know. I think I got two hours in."

"Don't tell me you were nervous, too," Kuroo remarked.

"Well...maybe..."

Bokuto couldn't hide the heat in his cheeks.

THE BEACH wasn't overflowing with people, which was good for Akaashi. What wasn't good for Akaashi was that almost as soon as they set up their towel and umbrella, Bokuto ripped his shirt off and ran to the sea.

The fact of the matter being that his bare chest was exposed; not only to the sun but to his eyes. He couldn't help but stare—he was gay—and it showed on his face, his writhing heart and bloodshot ears. He even wondered if Bokuto was doing it on purpose.

So, to distract himself, he began stuffing himself with the lunch that Bokuto made. Its deliciousness could not pry his eyes away from the faint lining of Bokuto's abdomen, his wet blue swim trunks glued to his legs, and the faint hairs that trickled below. What was most surprising was probably his wet hair, and how it fell over his face. The silver painted over the black, falling over his eyes, his hair made his appearance seem that much younger. His childish smile and intense golden eyes didn't help either.

Akaashi turned to Kuroo to see if he saw what he was seeing as well. But Kuroo was smirking at him knowingly.

Just then, Bokuto came rushing over to them. He tackled Akaashi and they rolled down in the sand together, laughing. “I have an idea,” Bokuto said, motioning to Kuroo.

A few minutes later, he and Akaashi were burying Kuroo in the sand. “Oi! What are you guys doing?!”

“You’re in the way of our private time,” he chirped.

“What ‘private time’?” Akaashi retorted.

By the time Kuroo fell asleep, Bokuto had gone to find seashells and crabs, while Akaashi pulled out his sunhat and read a book. When Bokuto returned, however, he looked a lot different from when he first left. The skin on his arms and legs were brushed with red. “Akaaaashi!” he exclaimed, “Look at this!”

“I see it. So you didn’t put sunscreen on?”

“No.”

“Why are you so irresponsible? You know that exposure to the sun damages your skin.” His words came out to be harsher than he’d intended.

Bokuto looked down. “Sorry.”

Akaashi sighed. “Come over here.” He took out a bottle of sunscreen as Bokuto lay face-down on the towel. Slowly and quietly, as if no one else was around, Akaashi rubbed the sunscreen over Bokuto’s skin.

“This feels nice,” he said.

“That’s good,” Akaashi replied.

“That hat, I like it. It looks good on you.”

He knew he just felt much hotter, and it wasn’t the sun. “Thanks. You sure like to say nice things to me.”

“Always,” he said with a smile.

BEFORE THEY GOT together, there was really only one time when Akaashi got jealous. It was a short lapse of time, but it was enough for Bokuto to be on the clouds. He was hanging out with Kuroo at the bar after work, so they were helplessly drunk. Both of them were being closer and more physical than usual.

“I love you, bro,” Bokuto said, holding Kuroo’s face in his hands.

“Man, I love you too. You’re amazing.”

Akaashi noticed this, and almost broke a glass. However, being on the other side of the counter, he could do nothing but watch.

Later, when Bokuto walked Akaashi home, the latter was silent (which was usual, but this time there was a guarded air around him). “What’s wrong?” Bokuto was still recovering from the alcohol, so his words were slurred.

“Nothing.”

“It’s something. I know you.”

“It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid when it comes to you. Tell me.”

“Are you and Kuroo-san just friends?” Bokuto cackled, and Akaashi stopped walking. “Exactly. It’s stupid.”

“I doubt we could be anything more, honestly. Like, have you seen him? And the way he acts?”

Akaashi laughed. “Pot, meet kettle.”

AKAASHI WAS REMEMBERING being at the beach when he had a small conversation alone with Kuroo, who was buried in the sand. It was about Bokuto.

“I want you to tell me honestly, though, about your feelings for him.”

“Why?”

“Because even though it seems like he’s fine, he’s been holding it in a lot. Because he doesn’t want to hurt you.”

“What? Does he think a kiss is going to hurt me?”

“Then do you want him to kiss you?”

“I don’t particularly mind.”

“Akaashi.” Kuroo’s tone was definite.

So Akaashi had to give a definite answer. “I’ve felt this way before, so it scares me all the more. But he, he makes me certain. He makes me feel like everything is going to be okay. Though, I don’t really know what that means or what I’m saying.”

“No,” Kuroo said, “you said plenty.”

“DO YOU REMEMBER ME?”

It was autumn again, and Bokuto was facing Akaashi’s ex. It had just started to rain, and he had no umbrella. That man was still the same; to Bokuto he was still bald and annoying and unnamed. But his irritation as he watched him speak to Akaashi inside only grew as he now faced him outside.

“No. Who are you?” he instantly said.

“I’m going to be Akaashi’s boyfriend," Bokuto snapped.

The man laughed. “Says who?”

“I just said it. Didn’t you hear?” Bokuto clenched his jaw and glared at him. “Fuck off.”

The man stepped forward, but Akaashi arrived outside and stopped him from getting any closer. The rain fell on him and slowly dampened his curly hair. “Leave,” he said. “Just leave. I’m sorry.”

Slowly, he left.

“Why’d you let him go? I was about to rip him a—”

“He just came to see if I was still in love with him.”

Bokuto paused. “And are you?”

“No. Then he asked me if I was in love with someone else.”

“What did you say?”

“Nothing.” For a second, Bokuto’s heart sank. “But I thought of you.”

And then it flew back up. “Really?”

“Really.” Bokuto wasted no time in embracing Akaashi. “I have to get back to work, Bokuto-san.”

“I don’t care.”

“You’re such a child.”

“I don’t care. I love you, Akaashi. I don’t really know how it happened, but I’m so glad it did.”

Akaashi held on to him. He tugged on to Bokuto's jacket, as if it were the only thing keeping him from falling. “You’re so stupid, Bokuto-san. For someone like me who hurts everything he touches....how can you love me so much? You’re insane.”

“Who said that you hurt everything you touch? For me, it's the opposite. You make me so happy.”

Akaashi pushed Bokuto back and then pulled him forward. Their lips crashed clumsily. Bokuto could smell the beer from Akaashi’s skin, and he could taste the rapeseed from his mouth. Everything existed in that kiss. The held back desire that was now set free, the fresh scent of the rain that ran down their lips and the desperation to never lose each other. And nothing could make Bokuto happier.

IT WAS RAINING when he arrived. Akaashi was making a drink for a woman sitting at the counter. She was staring at him. “Haven’t we met somewhere before?” she finally asked.

He looked up at her. He remembered. “The park. Kiyoko-san, right?”

“That’s what it was! I recently tried to repay Bokuto-kun, but he just told me to come here. He said that I can have a good drink.”

“Well, I think you can.”

“But, are you okay? You look kind of withdrawn.”

“Do I? I didn’t realize it.”

She smiled. “Oh, I get it. You’re nervous, aren’t you? You’re waiting for someone. Oh, is it Bokuto-kun?”

Just before he could reply, Bokuto walked through the door, drenched in water. “Hey, hey, hey!” he exclaimed. “Guess who has no umbrella?”

Kiyoko looked between the two, and she saw that Akaashi’s face was bright, and that he was smiling.

He said, “That would be you, Bokuto-san.”

Bokuto could just stand there, looking into those murky blue eyes, like when they first met. He could be there and just smile while on the verge of tears from happiness, but never really crying because the rain that had ran down his cheeks did it for him. He could stand there, for he had always loved the rain. And him.